Die Hard Mod Read Free Page A

Group’s I’m a Man , Steve felt numb to the hubbub around him. Wee Davy was the last to come over and talk to him. He was always buzzing on some substance or another but his heart was in the right place.
    ‘Stevie boy, I know you’ve heard it all tonight mate but I just wanted to tell ya that I thought Doug was a top man. See when I was skint, the fella would always stand me drinks all night… and he was great crack, so he was. I know he was yer best mucker ‘n all, must be hard to get yer head around… how are ye bearin’ up, kid?’
    Steve patted Davy’s shoulder affectionately.
    ‘It’s kind of you to ask Davy and I’m not bein’ funny but I’m really tired of talkin’ about how I’m feelin’. C’mon mate, tell us how you’ve been. What have ye been up to lately?’
    ‘Ach just the same stuff, Steve. Still workin’ in that shop in the arcade that sells the second-hand retro gear. Best crack I’ve had lately was the other weekend. Me and my girl went over for a Mod bash in Brighton . I tell ye what, its fuckin’ cracker over there, so it is. It’s a bit like how you imagine the 60s… folk bein’ dead cool ‘n friendly ‘n all. But you’ll never guess what, mate. I was at this wee basement place near the seafront and I coulda sworn I saw that wee girl you went out with, Jeanie. The one that did a disappearin’ act on ye, yeah? I said hello when she walked past but she just blanked me. But I swear, Steve, I would bet my whole fuckin’ record collection that it was her.’
    And with that, Steve knew his escape destination.

      
     
    5
     
    Steve only managed to get a few hours sleep on Johnny’s sofa and at around eight, he could hear his host putting on the kettle in the kitchen.
    ‘Can I have brew, Johnny boy?’ he shouted. ‘White, one sugar.’
    ‘Was makin’ ye one anyway,’ replied Johnny. ‘Got a wee fry on the go too.’
    ‘Happy days!’ said Steve, before the irony of the statement sunk in.
    He went through to sit at Johnny’s kitchen table and a plate of bacon, egg, sausage, mushrooms, potato bread and soda bread was put in front of him accompanied by a steaming mug of tea. It looked wonderful and it was some comfort to Steve that his appetite hadn’t been affected by his woes. ‘Boy ye could represent Ulster in the eatin’ Olympics, son’, his ma used to say.
    ‘So, what’s the plan, Steve? Takin’ the day off work? I’m sure they’d understand if ye do. Ye gotta do what’s best for you at a time like this… be gentle with yerself n’ all.’
    Johnny’s kind sincerity acted like a truth drug on Steve.
    ‘Thing is, mate, I gotta get the fuck outta Belfast .’
    ‘Ye what?’
    Steve gave Johnny the low-down on Trevor and Donzo and the Brighton escape plan, hoping that his friend’s common sense might provide a clear eye on his predicament.
    ‘Fuckin’ hell Steve, if it was anyone but Trevor McCann I’d go straight to the peelers but I can see where yer comin’ from… there’s a good reason why that fat psycho bastard is still roamin’ free. Fuck, remember yer man who started slabberin’ to the papers about Trevor sellin’ smack to his son…. I saw that poor fucker in his wheelchair around Corn Market the other day…’
    ‘Aye Johnny, and he’s upped the ante from knee-cappings and sellin’ class As with this particular felony, wouldn’t ye say?’
    Steve mopped up some egg yolk with the last bit of potato bread and wolfed it down while Johnny poured him another cup of tea.       
    ‘So Johnny, I’ve got if figured out. I’ll go to the doc’s this mornin’ and get signed off work for a couple of months and that’ll buy me a bit o’ time. He put me on Prozac when I got maself into a state about Jeanie fuckin’ off on me so he’s already got me down as a sensitive wee soul. I can clear out my savings – that’ll give me twelve hundred quid cash to keep me goin’. Once I’ve done that, I’ll be on the flight to Gatwick